


Not Just an Adrenaline Crash

by headinthecloudsgirl



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Graphic Depictions of Illness, Matt's sick on shift, No Slash, Sickfic, Vomiting, at least I think so, except you wear slash-goggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-26 09:32:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19003084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headinthecloudsgirl/pseuds/headinthecloudsgirl
Summary: Matt's sick on shift - Kelly to the rescue :)Matt knew that vomiting was in his near future, whether he liked it or not – he just hoped he could get it over with quickly. He gagged once, hard. Nothing came up, though. Casey coughed and spit, he hated that taste.“Case? Matt?”Shit.“Not just an adrenaline crash, huh?”That sounded a lot like Severide. Who shouldn’t even know about his pseudo-crash.





	Not Just an Adrenaline Crash

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hello there!  
> Apparently there are barely any sick fics for this fandom and I just had to change that :)  
> Enjoy!

Why didn’t the officer’s quarters have a private bathroom attached to them? That would have been a blessing right now. Seeing as the CFD wasn’t quite as well equipped as Casey would have liked, he found himself sneaking into the common bathroom, one hand on his stomach.

He had started feeling off shortly after breakfast and that feeling had escalated into full-blown nausea just when they had been wrapping up their last call. It hadn’t been a fire, thankfully, but a technical assist in a car crash. Truck and Squad had to cut the young driver out of the car before sending him off to Lakeshore with Brett and Foster. Casey argued his paleness and silence off to be an adrenaline crash and had somehow survived the ride back to the fire house, clutching the small water bottle Herrmann had passed him. They all knew that sometimes the body would just crash after an adrenaline high and leave you shaky. It seemed like they had believed their captain, as no one questioned Casey retreating to his quarters.

Matt quickly glanced at the stalls, which were all open, perfect. No one hear to witness what was about to happen. Engine was out on a call, Ambo still at Lakeshore and Squad and Truck had used the facilities after coming back from the call. He should be fine.

He made his way over to the last stall, pushed the door closed and knelt down. Next time he saw the cleaning crew, he had to thank them. Their floor was never dirty, neither were the toilets.

Casey sighed and rubbed his stomach again. He hated this waiting game. Cold sweat was forming on his forehead and he felt so dizzy he wasn’t sure he could get up if he wanted to. Matt knew that vomiting was in his near future, whether he liked it or not – he just hoped he could get it over with quickly. That weird acidic taste lurked in the back of his throat, warning him before gagged once, hard. Nothing came up, though. Casey coughed and spit, he hated that taste.

“Case? Matt?”

 _Shit_.

“Not just an adrenaline crash, huh?”

That sounded a lot like Severide. Who shouldn’t even know about his pseudo-crash.

Apparently, Herrmann knew him better than Casey would like to admit.

Instead of answering, Matt gagged again, still bringing up nothing but air.

“Aww, buddy,” Severide called again and Matt heard his knuckles rapping on his stall door. “Care to open up?”

“Not really,” Matt groaned back.

“I’ve got water. Wanna get rid of that taste?”

And Kelly knew him even better than Herrmann.

Matt sighed, reached a hand back to slip the lock out of place and contorted himself around the opening door.

 

* * *

 

 

“Knew that would get you,” Severide smirked and took in the sight of his friend.

Matt was as pale as he had ever seen him, drops of sweat on his forehead, shaking like a leaf. When Herrmann had told him that it would maybe be a good idea to check up on Casey, Severide had expected something like this. He had seen the shift in Casey during their last call, from somewhat off to barely saying a word and paling rapidly.

Severide had already spoken to Boden; he and Matt would be off-shift and home as soon as Matt’s body allowed them to be.

Kelly took a step forward and crouched down next to Matt.

“You want a sip now?”

He held the already opened bottle out to his friend, who took the tiniest sip of the cold water. If Severide had to guess, he’d say Matt never even managed to swallow before he finally vomited.

It wasn’t a pretty sight, but nothing he’d never seen before. Kelly put one hand between Matt’s shoulder blades and typed a text message with the other, asking Herrmann to make sure the bin in Matt’s quarters was lined or just to steal some of those sick bags from Ambo when they were back. He got a thumbs-up back not even a minute later and silently thanked whomever had put all of them together on one shift.

“Matt? Hey, you done?” Kelly asked after the second time Casey had brought something up and was left panting, barely keeping himself propped up on the seat.

“Okay,” Severide pushed Matt back by the shoulders, tipping him over so that he was sitting on his butt and turned him to lean on the wall of the stall next to him.

“Take a deep breath, Case, you’re all right.”

Kelly wadded up some toilet paper, dribbled a bit of water from the bottle on it, and put it in Matt’s hand who got the hint and cleaned his chin up a bit.

“You feeling any better?”

Matt still had his eyes closed and barely moved when he shook his head.

“Nah. Still feel sick. ‘nd dizzy. ‘s like ‘m on a ship,” he mumbled and took a deep breath.

Kelly grimaced and felt his phone vibrate again.

_Got some barf bags in his office._

_Brett askes if she should check up on him?_

Glancing at Matt again, he grimaced and replied:

_Thanks. Maybe._

_Don’t think I can get him to his bed by myself without him puking on me._

_Says he feels like he’s on a ship._

Kelly slipped his phone into his pocket and nudged Matt’s hand with the bottle of water.

“Want to try some water? Just enough to get your mouth wet?”

It took a minute, but eventually Matt took the bottle with a shaky hand and once again sipped the tiniest bit of water. And once again it didn’t seem like the best idea.

As soon as the water entered his mouth, Casey’s gag reflex kicked in.

Kelly didn’t even have time to turn Matt back around to the toilet and could do nothing more than rub his friend’s back, as he heaved up beige sludge down the front of his shirt.

“All right, get it out.”

The gloved hand reaching inside the stall and handing him a sick bag was probably the best thing he had seen that day.

Kelly snatched the bag and held it under Matt’s chin, managing to catch at least the last bit of that bout.

One hand still on Matt’s back, the other now holding the bag, Kelly looked up at Brett who had joined them on the bathroom floor.

“How long has he been like this?”

“I’d say he’s been feeling sick since after breakfast? But actually puking – “ Kelly checked the watch on his wrist holding the sick bag, “ – maybe fifteen minutes? He’s thrown up twice, I know that much.”

 

* * *

 

 

The first clear thought Matt had was that his shirt was wet. Realisation sunk in that it was vomit. Because he hadn’t made it to the toilet the second time around. And Kelly was still sitting next to him, hand between his shoulder blades. The next thing Matt really noticed was that Brett was crouching next to them, hands gloved and the pockets of her fleece jacket bulging with sick bags.

“Sorry. Urgh. Sorry,” was the first thing that he thought appropriate to say.

He felt both Kelly and Brett’s eyes on him. “Urgh. I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Matt. We all get sick sometimes,” Brett said and smiled at him.

“How are you feeling? Any better than before?”

Matt contemplated that for a second, wiped his chin clean _again_ with wet toilet paper that Kelly handed him and finally concluded, “Not really.”

He heard Kelly next to him chuckle.

“How do you feel then? Nauseous still? Any dizziness?” Brett prodded and handed him as well as Kelly a new sick bag.

Matt took it gratefully and clutched it with his right hand.

“Yeah, I still feel sick. Not as bad as before, but I don’t think I’m done puking. I’ve got that strange vertigo? I feel like I’m on a ship. Everything’s moving,” Matt groaned and rested his head against the stall wall.

“Sounds like gastro. I’d still like to check you over if that’s okay?”

Kelly next to him nodded.

“We’re definitely checking you over, Casey. And when you don’t feel quite as shitty, I’m taking you home. First, though, let’s get you to your office and into a new shirt, huh?”

That sounded like a great idea, to be honest.

“I’ve got some spare shirts in my quarters. Urgh, this is disgusting,” Matt grimaced.

Brett made an unimpressed face. “Trust me, you look better than most patients on a Saturday night after one o’clock in the morning. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

Kelly chuckled once again and even Matt’s lips managed to form a weak smile.

“Let’s get you up, buddy,” Severide said, standing up and holding out a hand to Matt, Brett doing the same thing on his other side.

“Take your time, Matt. We’ll go as slow as you need, okay? If you feel like throwing up again, tell us, we’ll manage it,” Brett said, using that soft voice reserved for patients only.

Matt linked hands with both of them, donning his sick bag for the minute, and tried to get his legs to hold his weight as Severide and Brett hauled him to his feet.

As soon as he was upright, his vision practically blackened out, cold sweat immediately back on his forehead.

“I want you to take some deep breaths, Matt. In through you nose, out through your mouth,” he heard Brett coach and complied.

“Easy does it, bud,” he felt Kelly readjust his grip on his upper arm, taking more weight off of Matt.

Matt wasn’t too sure though. The vertigo was kicking his butt.

“I’m gonna be sick again,” he groaned.

“Matt, listen to me. Take deep breaths. You’re fine. Deep breaths.”

 

* * *

 

 

Kelly was impressed that breathing actually seemed to help at least a bit. Matt had gone from chalky-white and throat already working to pale and apparently in control of his stomach.

Brett smiled at Matt and him.

“Good job, Matt. Let’s get you lying down.”

The trio slowly shuffled their way out of the bathroom, Kelly taking more and more weight of Matt the further they got.

“Almost there,” he heard Brett murmur on Matt’s other side and glanced over.

She had that frown on her face that she reserved for special occasions. Kelly caught her eye and raised an eyebrow at her. Brett grimaced and motioned with her free hand at first at Matt and then drew circles with it – _he’s dizzy_ was what Kelly interpreted. Apparently dizzy enough that Brett was getting worried.

“How’re you holding up, Casey?” he asked and strengthened his grip for a second, just to let Matt know he was still there.

“I don’t know if I’m gonna pass out or puke,” Matt said and definitely at least tried to find a humorous voice.

“How about neither,” Kelly answered and manoeuvred the three of them through the door of Matt’s office.

“Yay,” Matt groaned more than said and let himself be guided onto his bed.

Brett had already started to draw the blinds, shutting them off from the rest of the house and any curious eyes. As soon as Kelly was sure that Matt would keep sitting on his bed and not immediately fall over, he started rummaging around for a new shirt. It couldn’t be pleasant to have a vomit-stained shirt on you. Finally, in the lowest drawer of the desk, he found two of the dark blue CFD shirts that he had seen Casey wear maybe twice. In their house, Squad normally wore their blue shirts, Truck the grey ones. He couldn’t even remember what had started that but it was a habit that had just developed over the last years. Dark blue seemed like a better choice than grey at the moment anyway, with the way Matt was sweating.

While Severide had been looking for a shirt, Brett had already taken Matt’s blood pressure and temperature, as it seemed, as she packed the stethoscope away when he turned back around towards the bed.

“Your blood pressure is a bit low and you’re running a slight temperature, nothing too bad, though, Matt. Just rest and try to stay hydrated, okay?” Brett explained, a hand on Matt’s shoulder.

“Thanks, Brett,” Matt smiled back at her before she got up and looked at Kelly.

“If you need anything, call me. He should be fine in a day or two, just make sure he keeps drinking, even when he keeps throwing it back up.”

Kelly nodded, “Will do.”

Brett smiled at him and then left the two of them alone, gently closing the door behind her.

“Let’s get you out of that shirt, huh?”

The two of them somehow managed to get Matt out of his shirt without getting vomit on either of them. At least a small victory for today.

Matt fumbled his way into the new shirt, pushed his shoes off of his feet and opened the button of his pants, relieving a bit of the pressure on his belly.

“Tell me when you’re ready to go home, all right?” Kelly asked and then added, “I’ve got some sweatpants in my locker, but I’d imagine you’d rather be home than stay here.”

“If it didn’t involve a car ride, that is,” Matt chuckled and then got back to yoga-breathing.

Kelly grimaced. He didn’t think Matt could breathe away the nausea a second time, if he was honest. The last time had been a close call and pure stubbornness on Matt’s part.

“Shit. Kelly…” Matt groaned and reached out a hand.

Severide plucked one of the sick bags from Matt’s desk, handed it to his friend and sat down next to him. Thank God for those bags. Cleaning vomit out of bins wasn’t his favourite past time, so these came in really handy. They actually had a mechanism to close them after use so they wouldn’t leak – or smell too bad.

Matt next to him groaned again. Kelly could see the little droplets of sweat forming on his ashen face. He had to be feeling horrible.

He could see a gag roll his shoulders, but Matt stubbornly kept his mouth shut.

“Don’t hold it back, Case,” Kelly said and once again put his hand between his friend’s shoulder blades.

Matt opened his mouth and brought the bag a little closer to his lips instead of answering. One more unproductive heave and then he was throwing up for the third time that day.

Kelly was just glad he had a strong stomach. Last thing they needed was him puking in sympathy.

This bout seemed to last forever. As soon as Matt seemed to get a breath in, he was heaving again. Kelly could see tears streaming down his face form the pure effort his body put into being sick. He switched out bags after the third time Matt had brought something up – as much as Severide liked the bags, he didn’t want to overestimate their holding capacity.

“Casey. Matt. Hey! Hey, breathe,” Kelly said and reached to support Matt holding the sick bag with one hand, catching his forehead with the other.

The force of the heaves was rocking him forwards, barely making the opening of the bag.

“Matt. Matt! Think of what Brett told you. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slow it down.”

It took a few more gags but Matt’s stomach finally seemed to settle.

“You done?” Kelly asked, slowly took his hand back from Matt’s head and tied off the bag, another already pressed into Casey’s hands.

Matt was just sitting there, looking completely exhausted, swaying on the spot.

“Matt, you done for now?” Kelly repeated and crouched down in front of him, one hand on Casey’s knee, the other holding a wet paper towel.

Matt finally nodded and gladly accepted the paper towel to wipe his face.

“Yeah, yeah. I think so,” Matt whispered, eyes closed.

Kelly nodded to himself and stood up straight again.

“Let’s get you lying down. On your side.”

He helped Matt into the recovery position and nudged the bin closer to the pillow, just in case they weren’t fast enough for the sick bags.

“Get some rest, okay? I’ll be right here, if you need anything.”

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I'll continue this..... sometime in the future?  
> Let's see what my muse says and let it exist as a one-shot for now :)


End file.
